


Bouquet

by Hannigrammatic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first flower is a single daffodil. It arrives, in innocuous pink and white wrapping around the stem, at the end of Will’s shift at the academy on a Friday afternoon. Beverly Katz sets it on his desk with a smirk as the students file out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bouquet

**Author's Note:**

> I am entirely a noob at flower meanings <3 Anything in this was found via google, as I am just as helpless as my adorable Will when it comes to the language of flowers. So all mistakes are mine. Mostly this was just a cute thing I really wanted to write after dreaming about it hehe. ♥

The first flower is a single daffodil. It arrives, in innocuous pink and white wrapping around the stem, at the end of Will’s shift at the academy on a Friday afternoon. Beverly Katz sets it on his desk with a smirk as the students file out.

Two weeks later, again on a Friday afternoon, this time before he is about to teach, he sits at his desk and squints at the vase sitting there innocently. It’s not rambunctious at all, and there’s two Irises, one purple and one blue, within. The students try not look at it, where he brushes it aside to the edge of the desk, but a few of their gazes stray towards it almost nervously.

The next Friday, after the students have stumbled out, Beverly saunters in and sets another vase down, this one housing a small bundle of gardenia. At this point, Will is able to admit to himself that someone admires him. It’s a cliche that he doesn’t spend too much thought on. As with the others, he brings the vase home and sets it on a random flat surface.

When he walks into his classroom two Fridays later, his friend and psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter is standing at his desk, perusing his smartphone. When Will enters he pockets the device with a small smile, moving away from the desk.

“You seem to have an admirer,” Hannibal says around his smile.

“It appears to definitely be a thing,” Will murmurs around a sigh.

“You have more?”

“A few more. You see who left this one by any chance?”

“I did not.”

Will sighed in response and sat down behind his desk. It didn’t bother him, per se. Well at first, it definitely did, especially the time the students could barely contain their titters of amusement or interest. Today is a bundle of snapdragons wrapped in lavender, and Will casts around for something to put it in, but there’s nothing. Usually it is the end of his class when they arrive sans vase.

“You are unimpressed by this admirer?” Hannibal questions.

“What? No, not really. Uh, I guess confused? Do I come across as a flower person?”

“I am unsure what constitutes a person being a flower one or not. Apologies.”

Will smirks up at Hannibal and catches the light of mirth in the older man’s eyes. For a moment, Will is struck with knowing, a feeling that courses into him at that expression. But before he can grasp onto it solidly, it’s gone, and Hannibal bids farewell. 

“Perhaps you ought to look up the meaning of these flowers,” he says before leaving the classroom entirely.

Will takes the advice and opens google to tap flower names into the empty bar, feeling a little ridiculous. Eventually he puts together a small story via flowers, told to him by this secret admirer. 

Daffodils had many meanings, like chivalry and new beginnings, but a single one suggested misfortune. _What a great start_ , Will thinks.

Irises had their meaning in eloquence, but different colors annotated differently. Purple ones symbolized wisdom and compliments, and blue faith and hope. A single eyebrow rose as Will contemplated the new information. The story was a bit less unfortunate now.

Gardenia literally meant secret love. _Imagine that_ , he thought. He didn’t spend much time reading about them.

Snapdragons interested Will a great deal, however. One the one hand, according to the site he squinted at, snapdragons were a symbol of grace, energy, and strength. On the other hand, they also symbolized deception and presumption. Will felt scolded suddenly, reading about these flowers. He regretted opening google at all at this point, as his flower story had no ending and just served to confuse him.

Four weeks passed with no flowers. Friday evening, another flower-less ordeal, brought Will into the weekend feeling a little bummed out over the whole thing. A part of him did admittedly enjoy the attention, he supposed. But as with all things good in his life, the situation passed, and he was once again a grumpy teacher at work with no flowers on his desk softening his visage. _It’s just as well, anyway_ , he thought as he left work.

At his next session with Doctor Hannibal Lecter, Will didn’t mention the flowers. They spoke of his nightmares, which were getting worse steadily, about work, which was never not worse, and other mundane things that Will forgot as the hour neared its end. That night, in his customary last session of the day position, Will was offered a glass of wine by the good doctor.

“Did you have any time to look into your flower ‘thing’?” Hannibal asks with another small smirk.

“Ah, well I read a bit. But I seem to have lost my admirer’s attention, anyway. I think maybe they realized they had the wrong person,” Will sips his wine as he meets Hannibal’s eyes briefly. 

“You’re not very happy with that?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose it was nice. A little something to break up the monotony, you know? Not to be dismissive, but why does this matter to you?”

“Am I not allowed to be curious about my friend?” 

Hannibal’s tone was teasing, but beneath it, insulted as well. Will could see it in the way his lips thinned minutely. That feeling returned again, from a few weeks back. As if Will were about to discover something very important. But while he did finally pinpoint the emotion, the implications were so ridiculous Will dismissed it entirely and swallowed the rest of his wine. Well, he tried to anyway. Curiosity was always a thing Will disliked, when it was him personally being driven by it. _I’m a dog person, for fuck’s sake_.

“Doctor Lecter, are you my ‘secret’ admirer?” It’s a quiet question, soft almost like a confession.

“I must inquire about the jump your mind just made, Will.”

Will side-eyed his friend and psychiatrist. He’d asked it on a whim, bravery chasing the absolute ridiculousness that would be the notion of Hannibal fucking Lecter sending him flowers and mooning after him. He’d been ready to laugh the entire situation off as a joke, until now. Hannibal’s response was neither indicative of yes or no. 

“Call it curiosity,” Will finally responded. “I should probably get going now. Goodnight, Hannibal.”

It was usually ‘goodnight, Doctor Lecter.’ Will drove home and fell asleep and dreamt about flowers growing out of his eyes and ears and mouth. The following Friday Will passed Hannibal in the hallway on his way to his class, sparing him a polite smile before going on his way. It wasn’t until he sat at his desk that he noticed the small vase and the single, solid purple carnation within. 

_The purple carnation is a symbol of capriciousness. A solid color means ‘Yes.’_

Will smirked at his laptop at the end of class. He re-read the meaning a few times. Went over the other flowers again. Knew they would all die soon, as he was barely home or even of mind to remember to water or feed them. But he had an ending to his flower story finally, as well as the beginning of his own story with his ‘friend’ and psychiatrist Hannibal Lecter. And after their next session, leaning against the desk, both palming glasses of wine, Hannibal stood just a step closer than usual. 

Will returned his secret smile and leaned the rest of the distance to press his arm and shoulder against the older man’s.


End file.
